resolve things with him.”
She arched a brow. “So you’re planning to sweet talk your
way out of him hating you?”
He shrugged, looking at ease for someone who’d been sent
into hiding thanks to her father’s findings. “I can’t run forever.” His eyes
caught hers under the candlelight. “Not if I have any hope of settling down.”
She exhaled slowly, trying not to let emotions rule her
head. “Is that what you want?”
He nodded. “With you. More than anything.”
Her breath caught. A strange lump settled in her throat. She
only hoped his optimism paid off.
Chapter Five
An hour later they climbed out of the taxi. Alexia entered
the club on Blake’s arm, dressed in the slinky red gown he’d chosen. Red wasn’t
just passion, it was power—something she’d need plenty of if she hoped to get
through the night with her nerves still intact.
At a tiny stage set near the downstairs bar, an
ebony-skinned man in a tweed jacket serenaded patrons in a low, crooning voice,
his fingers gliding across the keys of a grand piano.
Blake led her past the pianist to the escalator nearby,
which took them upstairs to where booth seats offered views of the floor below.
They ordered a drink from the main bar before sliding into one of the leather
seats opposite each other.
Down below, groups and couples were already spilling in
through the front glazed doors from the street. At the other end of the room,
long-haired musicians, tats gleaming on their bared arms, were setting up on a
big stage.
None of it soothed the fear escalating within, and she
chewed her lower lip, decidedly sick inside. Blake was putting his life on the
line to ensure there was a future for them. But was the risk too great?
Blake took hold of her hand. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head and confessed, “I’m scared.”
He squeezed her hand. “You have nothing to fear. I won’t let
anything happen to you.”
I’m scared for you!
“I brought you here for good reason.” He nodded toward the
cameras mounted in strategic places on the ceiling. “They are all the proof we
need if our man tries something underhanded.”
She didn’t want proof. She wanted him safe. And she didn’t
doubt for one second that underhanded tactics would be the order of the night.
But she had no time to believe his reassurance. Blake
gestured to the heavyset man lumbering through the opened doors, a white cane
tucked under one arm. “Speaking of whom…here’s our man.”
Her mouth dropped open. Leon. She knew that man well!
He’d been her father’s biggest supporter and closest
confidant. Her heart squeezed tight, a painful lump in her chest. Surely it
couldn’t be true? Leon couldn’t possibly be behind the thugs who’d tried to
kill them. He’d been like an uncle to her. And had been the moneyed, driving
force behind her dad’s exploratory digs.
Damn it! He’d comforted her after her father’s death.
He’d also been noticeably absent at the funeral, a little
voice reminded.
She screwed her eyes shut, shocked beyond reason. It was all
too surreal. Leon had paid men to kill Blake? To kill her?
Her eyelids flicked open. The man below looked around. When
his hard gaze lifted and connected with hers, recognition was instant. His
brows snapped together, and he stepped onto the escalator.
Blake tapped the seat next to him. “Sit beside me, on the
outside.”
On legs gone weak, she changed seats. “Why?”
“In case you need a quick exit.”
“I thought you said—”
“It’s just a precaution.” His grin was self-assured. “Cats
are cautious by nature.”
The man who finally stood beside their table was on the high
side of fifty, bitter dislike stamped onto his face as though a permanent
scowl.
Blake didn’t stand, and the antagonism between the two men
was palpable. He indicated the seat opposite. “Take the weight off your feet.”
He wasn’t being polite.
The man hesitated. Suspicion glinted behind his cold
She arched a brow. “So you’re planning to sweet talk your
way out of him hating you?”
He shrugged, looking at ease for someone who’d been sent
into hiding thanks to her father’s findings. “I can’t run forever.” His eyes
caught hers under the candlelight. “Not if I have any hope of settling down.”
She exhaled slowly, trying not to let emotions rule her
head. “Is that what you want?”
He nodded. “With you. More than anything.”
Her breath caught. A strange lump settled in her throat. She
only hoped his optimism paid off.
Chapter Five
An hour later they climbed out of the taxi. Alexia entered
the club on Blake’s arm, dressed in the slinky red gown he’d chosen. Red wasn’t
just passion, it was power—something she’d need plenty of if she hoped to get
through the night with her nerves still intact.
At a tiny stage set near the downstairs bar, an
ebony-skinned man in a tweed jacket serenaded patrons in a low, crooning voice,
his fingers gliding across the keys of a grand piano.
Blake led her past the pianist to the escalator nearby,
which took them upstairs to where booth seats offered views of the floor below.
They ordered a drink from the main bar before sliding into one of the leather
seats opposite each other.
Down below, groups and couples were already spilling in
through the front glazed doors from the street. At the other end of the room,
long-haired musicians, tats gleaming on their bared arms, were setting up on a
big stage.
None of it soothed the fear escalating within, and she
chewed her lower lip, decidedly sick inside. Blake was putting his life on the
line to ensure there was a future for them. But was the risk too great?
Blake took hold of her hand. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head and confessed, “I’m scared.”
He squeezed her hand. “You have nothing to fear. I won’t let
anything happen to you.”
I’m scared for you!
“I brought you here for good reason.” He nodded toward the
cameras mounted in strategic places on the ceiling. “They are all the proof we
need if our man tries something underhanded.”
She didn’t want proof. She wanted him safe. And she didn’t
doubt for one second that underhanded tactics would be the order of the night.
But she had no time to believe his reassurance. Blake
gestured to the heavyset man lumbering through the opened doors, a white cane
tucked under one arm. “Speaking of whom…here’s our man.”
Her mouth dropped open. Leon. She knew that man well!
He’d been her father’s biggest supporter and closest
confidant. Her heart squeezed tight, a painful lump in her chest. Surely it
couldn’t be true? Leon couldn’t possibly be behind the thugs who’d tried to
kill them. He’d been like an uncle to her. And had been the moneyed, driving
force behind her dad’s exploratory digs.
Damn it! He’d comforted her after her father’s death.
He’d also been noticeably absent at the funeral, a little
voice reminded.
She screwed her eyes shut, shocked beyond reason. It was all
too surreal. Leon had paid men to kill Blake? To kill her?
Her eyelids flicked open. The man below looked around. When
his hard gaze lifted and connected with hers, recognition was instant. His
brows snapped together, and he stepped onto the escalator.
Blake tapped the seat next to him. “Sit beside me, on the
outside.”
On legs gone weak, she changed seats. “Why?”
“In case you need a quick exit.”
“I thought you said—”
“It’s just a precaution.” His grin was self-assured. “Cats
are cautious by nature.”
The man who finally stood beside their table was on the high
side of fifty, bitter dislike stamped onto his face as though a permanent
scowl.
Blake didn’t stand, and the antagonism between the two men
was palpable. He indicated the seat opposite. “Take the weight off your feet.”
He wasn’t being polite.
The man hesitated. Suspicion glinted behind his cold
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